


Form 67å

by Xela



Category: Reaper (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Crossover, M/M, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a terminal crush on a ridiculously hot Reaper named Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Form 67å

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetz1](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sweetz1).



Sam sighed and looked at the clock, wondering how a day could seem so interminable.

"Please put the vessel on the mat," he said by rote, "and fill out bounty form 5A dash 32B."

"What happened to 32C?" an amused voice asked. Sam startled so hard he fell off his stool. He landed on the floor with an oof, his ass smarting. "Smooth, Sammy." Sam blushed and looked up into the eyes of Dean Winchester, bounty hunter extrodinaire and Golden Child of Hell (which really didn't make much sense, because Dean was one of the good guys, and shouldn't the Devil's favorite be the Dark Child of Hell or something?). Regardless, Lucifer's favorite soul-catcher and the hottest person Sam had ever set eyes on.

"32C was deemed redundant," Sam explained, setting his stool right and trying to pretend he was super cool and unconcerned. "32B is much more efficient."

"Riiiight," Dean drawled. He quirked an eyebrow and looked Sam up and down. "Take care, Sammy. Gravity can be a bitch." Sam watched him walk out the door then let his head thunk down on the table.

"You are so screwed," Jess observed. Sam hated his coworkers. 

\--

"How's it hanging, Sammy?"

"G-good. You know, a little slow, but okay. Though we got a new form for you. 39D/F. You'll like it."

"...right. I'll get right on that."

"Yeah. Okay. Bye, Dean! ...I did not just do that."

"Oh my God, you are such a spazz."

"Shut up, Jess. I hate you."

"Not as much as you hate yourself right now."

\--

"Dean?! What happened?" Sam scrambled off his stool and ducked under the counter just as Dean toppled sideways. His face was a mass of bruises and he had a deep cut on his forehead.

"Sammy!" Dean said happily, words slurring together. "'s pretty, yanno?"

In spite of the dire situation, Sam felt a rush of hope. "Pretty?"

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling. Sam realized he'd never really seen Dean smile before. It was nice. Dean's head lolled back and he blinked. "The lights. 're all...glowy. An' pretty. Hi pretty lights!"

"Of course they are," Sam sighed, and hit the code for Reaper Down.

\--

"There's a picture of you next to pathetic in the dictionary," Jess told him.

"Shut up," Sam said, glaring at the Reaper who dropped a rattling Kewpie doll on his mat. Sam rang it through and handed the Reaper his soul bounty form (67å this week). "Next!"

"I'm just saying, instead of moping why don't you, you know, ask him out?" Sam grunted and processed his next customer. Ten minutes till he was off. Sam got through his queue and flipped his sign to close. He was going to go home at watch something suitably brainless and melodramatic. Maybe order a pint of Super-Double Freezing Hellacious ice cream

A shadow fell over his workspace. "I'm closed." The shadow didn't move. A blood red rose slid onto the vessel mat. "Really, I'm not..." He looked up and froze. Dean was there, cocky smirk in place, looking delectable in a leather jacket and tight jeans. The bruises had almost faded from his face. 

"I guess I could do one more," Sam allowed, reaching for the flower.

"It's not a vessel," Dean muttered, glancing away. He shifted uncomfortably, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Oh?" Sam said, not really understanding. He glanced down at the flower in his hand with a frown, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Idiot," Jess hissed, throwing a piece of paper at his head. He glanced up at her, but she just made an odd jerking movement towards Dean, and then towards the flower, and then back at Dean. Sam frowned and shrugged. Jess whimpered and thwacked her head against her desk, hard enough to crack it. Sam abruptly realized everyone in the Department of Soul Retrievals was watching them.

"HE WAITS IN LINE FOR YOU YOU MORON," an anonymous voice yelled. Dean made an embarrassed choking noise. Sam gaped. Dean blushed. Sam looked down at the flower in his hands and felt a smile steal over his face. He snapped the rose's stem off and Dean seemed to deflate.

"So, I'm off until Monday..." Sam offered, tucking the rose into a button hole on his shirt.

"Yeah?" Dean asked cooly, leaning over the counter top to straighten the flower. His fingers deliberately brushed the small patch of skin exposed to the air. Sam shivered let his gaze travel up Dean's arm and to his eyes, which blazed with want.

"Oh yeah."

"Awesome," Dean grinned, and stuffed his hands into his pockets and Sam fumbled to get his stuff together, tripping over invisible objects in his haste.

"Idiots," Jess muttered affectionately. The boys left to scattered applause. It was about damn time. Great way to end the week. Oh fuck, it was Friday. That meant the stupid angels had won the pot.


End file.
